


Dream Vision

by StellaHope



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: A little Vessel trying to escape the hellhole that is the Abyss, Kingdom’s Edge, actual pictures cuz I legitimately spent time on this thing, dream ghost, fan made charm, they’re not too sure if they like feelings or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaHope/pseuds/StellaHope
Summary: Although the defective Vessels were locked in the Abyss to die, many found alternate ways to escape. Most of the survivors wanted nothing more than to be as far from the horrid pit of death as they could get. A slightly weaker one heads directly toward the shaft of an abandoned tramway, and treks all the way through the passage until they reach the daunting wastes of Kingdom’s Edge. The climbs through the pale cliffs seem terrifying, but their drive to be as far from the bottom of the world as they can get overrides any fear. Picking up an old nail that they don’t know how to wield, they begin the dangerous ascent, unaware of the mysterious corpse that lies in a cavern above.





	Dream Vision

**Author's Note:**

> The summary should explain the beginning of their story well enough for now, but here’s a first glimpse of one of my older Vessel OCs and how they got their name and purpose. Hopefully it’s not too boring..! And I decided to figure out how to embed images just for this story, cuz I spent a good amount of time on this whole project and I wanted to make sure I was able to show all of it. Hopefully they all work correctly lol, it’s my first time trying to put images on here. 
> 
> Anyways... enjoy! <3

 

They’d been traveling for too long. The little Vessel knew they should stop; their feet screamed at them to rest. Pain from constant stone underfoot echoed through their soft shell, and they yearned for nothing but sleep. But they pressed on anyway.

How long they’d been going, they weren’t sure. They didn’t even know where they were headed. But their body was forcing them onward, apparently set on getting as far away from the dark pit as possible. Their mind agreed— they surely did want to be as far from that horrid place as they could possibly be. However, the air was filled with pale shreds of decay, and their legs felt like they would give out at any second. They knew they wouldn’t be able to keep climbing forever.

Focusing on their last shred of energy, they launched themself into another leap, just barely clearing the gap between their small platform and the next. They stumbled awkwardly upon touching town, their legs almost unable to catch them. Before they could even right themself fully, a warbling, buzzing sound caught their ear, and they raised a shaking claw to the handle of their cracked nail defensively. Their eyes darted about the colorless cavern, and something unpleasant jolted through their heart at the sight of a pair of primal aspids hovering close by.

The burn they’d already gained from a previous aspid stung with some instinctive reflex, and they knew they couldn’t try to take another one head on again, let alone two at once. In an instant, their head was swiveling to search for a place to hide. Their frantic gaze landed on a nearby ledge, where a small crack wove up the rocky wall. In an instant, they were leaping at the ledge, inevitably falling to their knees on impact. Something urgent rocketed through their shell as they heard the warbling become louder, and they shot up, scrambling to reach the crack.

Upon trying and failing to squeeze themself through, they unsheathed their nail, desperately whacking at the opening, causing only a few small stones to dislodge. When the warbling became a hiss behind them, they quickly attempted to jam their mask through the hole again. With a painful grinding noise, their head finally slid through, and they nearly catapulted the rest of their body in after it, tumbling awkwardly to the ash-covered ground on the other side.

They fumbled to escape the mound of white powder they’d landed in, wheezing silently from the ashy air as they brushed off their cloak. Although they were away from the aspids, they still felt as though they should keep moving. Wherever they’d ended up after squeezing through the crack, they should find a way out so they could continue their trek.

Upon turning around to look, their foot bumped into something, and they glanced downward to watch as a cylindrical object wrapped in some sort of string rolled gently across the stone. They stared at it for a moment, unsure of what it was, and, upon it not seeming dangerous, they walked over and picked it up. The string was sleek and shiny, but plush at the same time. It was just sticky enough to cling to their small fingers for a second as they touched it, but also smooth, and it felt somehow special as their claws gently ran across the surface of the pale material.

Where had it come from…? They raised their head, curiously looking about the cavern. The area was small and mostly ash-covered, hosting not much more than frail, white plants and shellstones. However, just a bit off from the center of the room, the large figure of a bug was slumped over, completely unmoving. White dust was settled around them as well as a slight dusting on top of their shell, and the little Vessel came to the realization that they must have been here for quite a while if the ash had settled like that. Maybe they were sleeping.

Slowly, they set down the spool of thread and began taking careful steps toward the bug. Their claw rested cautiously on the hilt of their nail, reading the weapon in case the strange bug moved or tried to attack. Their approach didn’t seem to disturb them. As quietly as they could manage, they shuffled around to the bug’s front side, and a cold realization sunk in as they looked at their mask. There were brutal splinters and cracks all down the pale surface, and one of the long, jagged horns even looked about ready to fall off. It had surely taken a huge impact for it to possibly look like this. And, most importantly, there was a very old slash mark trailed across the bug’s midsection, where the shell was destroyed and the skin beneath was sunken in. There was no way they would have survived a wound like that, if it was left open. They let out a breath as their claw dropped away from their nail. This bug was long dead.

Something about it caused a slight churning feeling in the Vessel’s stomach. They weren’t sure why this felt more “wrong” than other dead bugs had, but there was something about the way they were slumped over… something about the needle-like blade that laid uselessly at their side, with more of the plush string winding from its loop… that made them feel like this wasn’t meant to be.

They shook their head, clearing the strange sensation. It was foolish, they thought, to be feeling this way. All bugs died. There was no reason to feel wrongness over the loss of one life. They felt a small pang of something painful— ‘would I be feeling this is I wasn’t a failure...?’— and quickly shooed it away.

There was something strange around the bug’s neck, they noticed after a moment. Something round and glimmering hung from a string of that same material. It had a beautiful gold sheen to it, and it felt somehow... attractive? Valuable? Precious? They weren’t sure. But there was some air about it that made them want to have it close to them. Hesitantly, they reached out to take hold of it, unhooking the strand of thread with delicate claws and removing it from the bug’s neck. They wouldn’t mind if they weren’t alive to care for it themself, right?

The Vessel held the metallic pendant in both hands, staring at it intently. There was a beautifully intricate pattern carved into the front side— an eye shape with a circular symbol etched in the center. Smaller swirls and divots surrounded the design, filling the entire surface with a never-ending series of lines that they could trace for hours. It was… something. Something that made them want to hold it forever. Something that made them feel not so empty.

Gingerly, they fastened the string around their own neck, and shivered as an unfamiliar tingling sensation spread across the entirety of their thin carapace. It felt strange… did it feel strange? They couldn’t tell what they thought of the feeling before it seemed to sink into their body, and they felt perfectly normal again. Deciding not to dwell on it, they promptly turned from the corpse and continued to take small steps toward a visible exit of the cavern. They were content with their new treasure, and they had to keep moving. The dead bug made them feel something they didn’t want to be feeling, anyway. Looking down off yet another ledge, they prepared themself to jump.

“Leaving so soon?”

The Vessel nearly jumped a foot off the ground, instantly fumbling for their nail and drawing it, dropping into an awkward defensive stance as they whirled around to face the source of the voice. Upon seeing it, they nearly dropped their weapon in complete disbelief. There, floating gently above the corpse, was a half-transparent version of the dead bug. He— as it was definitely a he, by the deep voice— looked at them expectantly, as if waiting for them to respond. The Vessel, if they’d had any words to begin with, were at a loss for them. Never had they expected to see something quite like this. If they hadn’t have known better, they would have thought they were hallucinating.

“You look frightened,” the bug continued, his bold voice softening. “There’s no need to be afraid. You are not crazy, nor am I a figment of your imagination. I am simply the remains of a life long past. I am but a ghost in this world.”

Slowly, shakily, the Vessel sheathed their nail and walked away from the ledge, back toward the spirit. They gazed up at him in awe, wondering just what he was and how he was still here. Was this normal? Did anyone else see transparent, floating copies of dead bugs?

The bug laughed, bending forward to see them closer, their eyes gently slitted. “You’re a small thing, aren’t you? Do you have a name?”

A name? They weren’t quite sure what that was. Not knowing how else to respond, they shook their head. 

“Ah, no? Well, that’s alright.” He reflexively went to hold out one of his four hands, then seemed to second guess himself and pulled it back, clutching it with another. “I’m Doran. I am… well, I WAS an adventurer of sorts. Until these treacherous barrens got the best of me, obviously.” He gestured to his slumped body on the ground, letting out a short, sorrowful noise. “I’m impressed at you for finding your way up here however. You must be a strong little creature.”

Yet again, something undesirable pierced through the Vessel’s heart— something like ‘no, not strong, much too weak,’— before they forced it back down. They settled for a simple dip of their head.

Doran hummed thoughtfully. “Not one for words, eh? I understand that.” There was a pause. “Would you care to hear of my journey, little one?” he asked after a moment. “I haven’t seen anyone in… quite some time. I have been waiting ever so long to share my tale with another.”

For some reason, they felt compelled to oblige the ghost’s wish, even if they’d been set on continuing their trek. They nodded again softly, content with staying put for the moment.

“Thank you, little friend,” Doran said with a smile. He gazed at them for a moment, then gestured to the ground. “Why don’t you sit? You seem as though you need a rest.”

They thought about it for only a second before lowering themself down onto the stone, finally taking the weight off of their aching feet. They heaved a silent, shuddering sigh at the immediate relief. They hadn’t even thought about the fact that this was the first time they’d truly rested since their escape. They didn’t even know this much pressure could be released from their muscles. Contented, they gazed up at Doran, who drifted to the ground as well.

“Do you know of a place called Deepnest, little one?” he started. They shook their head cluelessly, and he chuckled in understanding. “It is the home of the spiders. It may lie outside Hallownest, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t know of your kingdom. There was one place here that I was particularly interested in, and I had always wished to visit it— the Resting Grounds, where the bodies of bugs long dead were laid to rest, and where their spirits linger on.”

Doran glanced proudly at the pendant on the Vessel’s chest. “That charm you now hold is a special relic. I found it long ago, and cherished it when I learned of its power. It is the very reason you can see me now. It is called Dream Vision— with it, you can see and hear the spirits of the deceased.”

The little Vessel looked down at the pendant, holding it gently in their palm and running a curious finger over the grooved edge. A charm… an object with power. Something that made them special to hold. Something that let them do what others couldn’t. The same sensation from before clutched their chest again. A feeling that made them want to protect the small object and never let it go. A feeling of… worth. It was strange, but, however much they instinctively wanted to extinguish it, the feeling held on and didn’t let go. And, surprisingly, it wasn’t unpleasurable.

“That charm is the reason I finally decided to leave Deepnest and start my journey,” Doran went on. “You see, I’d always been fascinated by the history of this kingdom and the bugs in it. I even heard there were bugs in the Resting Grounds that came from tribes that perished long ago. I was so intrigued that I decided, with the power of the Dream Vision charm, I could be the first to finally document the stories of those old spirits. So, although no one approved of my plan, I slipped away anyway, and I began my journey to seek out the Resting Grounds.” He had been smiling, but now his eyes changed, and the Vessel felt a sense of negativity flow from him. “But… well. You can see how that turned out.”

They felt something else new as they looked at him now. An unpleasant, longing sensation… that made them want to do something, anything, to help him not feel so bad. As if they were obligated to fix it. And… they wanted to. It was an urge similar to the instinctive feeling of survival, but rather not for their own benefit. For his. For his peace and for his honor. And suddenly… they felt their desire changing.

‘I’ll do it,’ they wanted to say. ‘I’ll take it. I’ll do what you weren’t able to.’ But without a voice, what were they to do?

In an attempt to make the old bug understand, they held the charm up, looking at him hopefully. ‘Metakecharmgofulfill,’ they thought desperately, wishing somehow he could understand. ‘Journeyspiritsfindgo’. And, to their relief and surprise, his expression changed to one of shock, and then to understanding, before he smiled with a short breath of air. 

“I think I understand you, my friend,” he murmured as he glanced between them and the charm they were still holding out to him. “But would you… really do that…? I am sure you were already on your way somewhere, and I could never pressure you to change the destination of your journey simply because I died a foolish death…”

They shook their head decisively. This was something they felt they had to do, and there was no way Doran was going to talk them out of it. He was wrong, anyway— they didn’t have a destination. They were but a lost child, wandering about the ruins of a dead kingdom in search of some miraculous place of respite. They had no goal other than to be anywhere that was far away from their terrifying birthplace. And, if they could fulfill someone’s final wish in the process, what could be more worthwhile?

Doran simply smiled. A tired, joyful smile. “Thank you, small one…” he sighed. “To know my purpose will be carried on… that the charm will be in good claws to continue its journey… I might finally be able to rest.” He was silent for a moment, watching them, and then chuckled gently. “Speaking of rest… you seem to need it, as well.”

The Vessel didn’t know what he meant until they had to catch themself before they toppled sideways. They had forgotten just how weak their body had become, and just how long it had been since they’d actually let themself stop like this. He was right, wasn’t he? They couldn’t carry on much longer in this state.

“Sleep, child,” He chittered kindly. “I will watch over you as you rest, and will alert you if danger shows its face. Do not worry.”

In only a matter of seconds, they’d flopped awkwardly onto their belly, resting their cheeks on the flat of their forearms. Immediately, their weariness sunk in, and they felt their consciousness already starting to fade. They forced their vision to persist for another moment as they watched Doran, sitting there beside them, his spectral body seeming slightly more transparent than it had once been. They only worried for a moment that he might leave, but their mind quickly denied the thought as they remembered his vow to protect them, and their muscles relaxed even more.

They barely registered the low, melodious song that flowed from him as the world faded into a familiar black void, and they fell into the most peaceful sleep they’d ever experienced.

~~~

When they awoke, he was still there, just as he’d promised. Doran greeted them softly, gently, and prepared them for their journey. He told them to take the map from his body, and follow it until they reached an elevator, upon which they should ride up to the Resting Grounds. There would be someone there, waiting for them, and they would accept the Vessel upon seeing their charm. Then the spirits would be revealed to them. 

“You said you have no name, correct?” he’d asked just before they left. When they shook their head, he simply smiled again, sending a foreign warmth across their cold shell. “Well… what do you think of Sight?”

The Vessel took the word and clutched it in their mind, rolling it around and cherishing it. Sight. That was what they were called. The Vessel with the charm, who could see that which no other could. The Vessel with a new purpose. Sight.

For the first time, a strange wetness prickled in their eyes, and the warm feeling blossomed through their chest. They nodded, and the spirit nodded in return.

“Alright then. I wish you safe travels… Sight. Do not forget me.”

They would never forget him. He who gave them meaning, who gave them hope and worth. They turned and looked out into the howling wind, and the path didn’t seem so daunting anymore. With one last glance behind them, they projected their best attempt at a smile of their own. They knew he felt it.

And, with a strong leap, Sight hurtled onward.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know if anyone like reading stories about OCs, but I’ll hopefully be working on more about my other characters relatively soon, so maybe let me know if you enjoyed this so I know what to do with them..?
> 
> Hope y’all enjoyed at least a bit!
> 
> I’m also on the Hollow Knight Amino, if y’all are interested in seeing more art and short stories from me! I’m StellaHope, just like here.


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